Neville One Half
by Dreamingfox
Summary: Neville and Ranma's adventures in England. Not your usual Ranma x HP fic.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes –

Yes, another project of mine. As some of you may have noticed from my profile there was a poll there where I had posted several stories/ideas that I was working on. I'm sure many of you have noticed that this is not a sequel to Ranma's White Wings nor is this a Ranma x Forgotten Realms x DragonLance fic. Considering my other current projects than this must of course be a Ranma x Harry Potter fic. I would think that from the title of the fic everyone would know who the first primary character is, and though he is only a secondary character from the HP verse, he's definitely my personal favorite.

Yes, this is a post DH but pre-Epilogue, post manga (with some anime references) fic, but it's also AU, slightly. Hell, it's a crossover fic; of course it's going to be AU.

* * * * *

The warm early spring dawn had come at a great cost. Though the wizard once known as Lord Voldemort and his followers had been defeated many had lost their lives in the night long battle for Hogwarts.

Despite the great strain and horrific fighting that many had endured throughout the night there were numerous celebrations throughout the grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmead. Many survivors gathered together, not to mourn their losses, but to celebrate the lives of those who had paid the ultimate price for the freedom that their surviving relatives and friends could now have.

Standing amid a large crowd of admirers a tall, battered and bloody young man smiled warmly despite his discomfort. Though he had several nasty cuts and large welts on his face and arms the mousy haired youth had long forgotten those obvious wounds. What bothered the wizard were not his battle scars (from the night or from his long and grueling year at Hogwarts) but the crowd of gawkers and admirers around him.

Though he had faced down Lord Voldemort and even cut off the head of the dark wizards familiar, the lanky boy that few would have called brave (at least not in his first six years at Hogwarts) found that he really didn't like the spotlight. True, it had been his former class and dorm mate Harry who had finally vanquished Lord Voldemort, but only after everyone had thought that the Boy who Lived had actually died. With virtually everyone believing that Harry Potter had died only Neville had dared to try and do something about it.

Looking back on it, Neville chuckled. It was a bit foolish and reckless, but Harry had told him that Voldemort's snake needed to be killed. Had Voldemort not been overconfident and already claimed victory Neville was sure that he would never have summoned the Sorting Hat and allowed Neville to get so close to the snake that contained the final…. What was it again? Hororcrux? No, that didn't sound right… Horcrux, yes that was it - Horcrux. The snake had been the final horcrux, containing the only other shard of the dark wizard's soul outside of his body. By killing the snake he had made the dark wizard mortal.

Slowly, Neville excused himself from the others around him. Being the tall, lanky youth that he was he could see the Weasley family grieving for their losses. But something was missing. No, not something, someone was missing. Not only was Ron missing, but his erstwhile companions Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were both missing as well.

Filing that fact in the back of his mind Neville shrugged. It wasn't his place to dwell on such thoughts. Gripping the Sword of Gryffindor in his hand the lanky youth set off to return the sword to its rightful place.

The sounds of celebration filled the corridors of the battered castle. Magical scorch marks told of the violent duels and battles that had filled the halls. Broken and discarded bits of armor and stone were all that remained of valiant suits of armor and animated gargoyles that had fought to defend the castle from the Death Eaters and their allies – the werewolves and giants.

Pulling out his wand Neville concentrated as he flicked it. A flash of bright light quickly illuminated the hallway as a shattered gargoyle slowly began to piece itself back together.

"Oy! My nose doesn't go there!" it shouted in protest.

Too tired to do anything else the lanky boy shrugged, "Sorry." With another flick of the wrist he shifted the gargoyle's nose. Though not perfect it would have to do.

"Thanks," the gargoyle grumbled.

Neville nodded before setting off once again.

Even after nearly seven years of schooling at Hogwarts Neville barely knew how to get to the Headmaster's office as he'd rarely ever had to visit it. True, there was that one attempt at breaking in when he, Ginny, and Luna had tried to 'liberate' the exact sword he was now holding, but they had attempted to enter from outside of the castle. The going was made worse due to the extensive damage that several corridors had taken.

After an hour of traversing through the castle Neville found himself in the corridor leading to the Headmaster's Office.

"Neville," a familiar voice called out to the youth.

It was slightly unsettling how long the seemingly simple trip up to the Headmaster's Office had been, mostly because of similar greetings from others who happened to also be touring the devastation that remained. Some had been explaining their exploits or describing the flow of the battle, most though were showing the surviving friends and family of the fallen where their son, daughter, or friend had died and of their valiant efforts that had allowed others to make it out of the passage or to endure the relentless barrage that the Death Eaters had unleashed on the defenders of Hogwarts.

Numb from the long night and seemingly endless morning, the mousy haired boy raised his head as he turned to the new speaker. The lean youth ahead wore robe similar to the ones that Neville wore, though the youth's unkempt hair hid his famous scar, it was clear to Neville (and probably most of the wizarding populace of England) just who was standing up ahead. "Harry," he replied with a smile.

"What are you doing up here?" the scrawny youth asked.

Hefting the sword the mousy haired boy shrugged, "Just wanted to put these back."

Harry smiled wirily as he leaned against the wall then slowly lowered himself so that he was now sitting.

"Long night?" Neville teased as he slowly dragged his feet towards his companion.

"Don't you know it," the legendary boy replied. "I wouldn't go up there."

Raising his brow questioningly the taller boy paused.

"Ron and Hermione," the dark haired boy explained, "as their best friend I don't want to even try and think of what they're doing right now."

"He finally told her then?"

"They finally gave in," the shorter boy replied. "Even though we were in the middle of fighting they could barely keep their hands off of each other."

"And you spent how long traveling with them?"

Harry chucked. "They only got that way during the battle. You saw how Ron was nearly spouting things that Hermione usually says."

Though he was too tired to think, the taller youth recalled that Ron had done that when they were back in the Room of Requirement. Slowly he nodded.

"You know how Hermione went on and on about House Elves back in forth year?"

Again Neville nodded, "Yeah, she even convinced me to join. What was it called again?"

Harry chuckled again as he recalled fonder, simpler times. "S.P.E.W. I think she strong armed you really."

Neville sighed. Smiling he slumped against the wall opposite from Harry.

"Well, Ron made some remark about how they shouldn't have the house elves fighting, something similar to one of S.P.E.W.'s main principals. Hermione just couldn't hold back once he went there. I think that if anyone other than me had tried to get them apart they would have killed that poor unfortunate soul."

Shaking his head Neville smiled.

"Neville," Harry said tentatively.

Sensing the change of tone in their conversation Neville slowly turned to focus his attention on his classmate. Though they had spent six years together in the same dorm room Neville really couldn't consider himself to be one of Harry's friends. True, they had both turned to each other at times, and even trusted each other with some secrets, but they really hadn't been close. Other than the Weasley's and Hermione, Harry really hadn't trusted anyone. For Neville, the shy, timid boy who many had doubted belonged in the house known for bravery, his social awkwardness had always made him feel as though he were the third leg of any group. Seamus and Dean, the other boys in their room, had formed a fast friendship, just as Harry and Ron had, thus leaving Neville, the fifth and final boy out in the cold.

In truth, their relationship had been built around being able to rely on each other – Harry to lead and set an example and Neville to follow and provide assistance when needed. True, Harry had considered him his friend after the incident at the Ministry of Magic, but even after that Harry had not been able to confide in Neville. Then again, he did have a lot on his plate.

"Do you remember the prophecy?" the scarred boy asked.

"The one in the Department of Mysteries? The one I smashed?"

Harry blinked. "Yeah."

"The one that basically proclaimed you as 'the Chosen One'?"

With a wiry sigh Harry nodded. "Dumbledore told me what the prophecy said. The prophecy was told to him, and he kept that memory in his Pensieve."

"I never would have thought of that," Neville muttered.

"The thing is," Harry said, bringing Neville's thoughts back, "the prophecy could have been about you."

Coughing, Neville dropped the Sword of Gryffindor.

* * * * *

Neville couldn't help but stare dumbfounded at Dumbledore's portrait. It had been one thing to listen to Harry tell him about the prophecy, but for the last remains of the legendary wizard to tell him the same thing had really floored the young man.

"So my did I have the same protections placed on me as Harry did?" he asked.

Dumbledore, or his animated portrait, nodded. "Alice, like Lily, had set up an ancient ward on you. Unlike Harry though, your ward never activated."

"Because my mother didn't die for me," Neville added.

"Yes, had she died for you the ward would have activated, just as it did for Harry," the portrait explained.

"But Harry had to live with his mother's closest living relative," Hermione stated throwing another point for consideration. Having need of the former headmaster's portrait, Harry had convinced Ron and Hermione to at least appear presentable as he and Neville consulted with Dumbledore.

"True, if it had been Neville instead of Harry I would have insisted that he live with his mother's closest relative," Dumbledore admitted.

"But who's his mum related to?" Ron asked. Though he normally spoke without thinking, it was clear that Hermione had rubbed off on him in a good way as the tall redhead had simply expressed what each of the teens had been thinking.

"You mother's from a wizarding family though, it wouldn't be too hard to find some of her family," Hermione offered.

"Actually, it would be much harder than you'd think," Dumbledore conceded. "Though Alice is from a wizarding family her family isn't as large as the Weasley family, few would willingly admit to belonging to that family."

Hermione's face scrunched as she concentrated. "There's a dark wizard in her family?"

"Not so much as that," Dumbledore admitted. "Though there is one considerably infamous wizard in her family, it's not because he was a particularly malicious; just… well, perverted."

The four teens blinked.

"Aside from Neville, your mother is the only descendant of the legendary pervert – Happosai the Horny."

Harry and Neville both looked dumbfounded while both Ron and Hermione's faces were as red as Ron's bright red hair. After several minutes for the later pair to regain their composure Dumbledore continued, "Your grandmother on your mother's side was the illegitimate child of Happosai"

"the Horny," Ron snickered only to have Hermione elbow him in the ribs.

"Of course your great-grandmother refused to admit that she had been his willing lover, reluctant or willing, so she raised your grandmother as though she were a true Crouch. Though much of the rest of the wizarding world did not know of the truth about Abigail Crouch, the rest of the Crouch family did. As a result Abigail was legally removed from their family register."

"So Neville would have lived with Barty Crouch?" Ron questioned.

"No," Dumbledore answered curtly. "Though Barty Crouch and his son were the last of the Crouch family, they are not Neville's closest living relative. Barty Sr.'s grandfather was a distant cousin to Abigail, and thus only a distant cousin to Neville."

Focusing his eyes on Neville, Dumbledore sighed. "No, your closest living blood relative on your mother's side is in fact Happosai"

"the Horny," Ron coughed, again getting an elbow to the ribs.

"But he'd have to be over four hundred years old," Hermione exclaimed as she glared at her boyfriend.

"Wizards, as I'm sure you know, are extremely long lived," Dumbledore countered.

"But four hundred years is a bit long, even for a wizard," Ron stated.

"True as that may be, I know for a fact that Happosai" everyone glared at Ron "is still alive. Unfortunately he has returned to his home nation, though that may only be unfortunate for the Japanese Ministry."

"Neville's part Japanese?" Ron exclaimed.

"Only one-eighth," Dumbledore added.

"Wait, Neville's part Crouch?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, but they removed his grandmother from their register, so he would not be entitled to any of the Crouch estate," the wise old wizard explained. "But of course it also explains why Barty Crouch Jr. had been able to get past the protections that the Order had put up on your parents' house. Though your mother and grandmother were not recognized as official members of the Crouch family line, they still maintained some relations with Barty and his son."

Overwhelmed by all the information, Neville found himself slumping back into the uncomfortable chair he'd drawn earlier. "No wonder Gran ever mentioned my mother's family."

"Your mother was an only child," Dumbledore said solemnly.

"But what about his grandfather?" Hermione asked, still seeking to find another relative for Neville to be related to.

"Both he and Abigail died during the first war with Voldemort," the former headmaster explained.

"Happosai the Horny," Ron snickered.

* * * * *

On the other side of the world the infamous Happosai the Horny sneezed. "Oh, I'm sorry my precious," he said as he pulled out a silk hanker chef. Wiping the black silky panty, he held it up for inspection. "I wouldn't want to ruin such a valuable treasure," he said to himself as he laid out the silky treasure. "Someone must be talking about me. Probably that ingrate Ranma – how dare he turn down the chance to wear such a lovely like yourself."

* * * * *

A/N

Yes, a Harry Potter x Ranma fic. Hopefully you've all enjoyed this little set up. Please Read and Review.

Dreamingfox


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes -

Yes, I'm merely a lowly fanfiction author. I don't own Ranma ½ or Harry Potter, just borrowing characters, ideas, and concepts for the purpose of polishing up my writing skills (which are lacking) and as a creative outlet. Yes, there are those who might enjoy this fic, but clearly it's not getting as much attention as other fics of mine (not to mention other crossover fics in general). Still, if you know my writing (don't judge me on just One Half Tenjou, One Half Tenge or Ranma's White Wings) I do this because I like to write and often pull off some oddball crossovers and concepts. Yes, I'm just odd and I tend to stick with tangent thoughts and ideas.

Honestly, I don't expect many people to follow this fic as I'm using a character from HP that few people follow or write, and a concept that really is off the wall.

If you've been following my other fics you know I've poured a lot of time into one particular fic, but now that I've resolved that arc, well, time to get back to work on my other fics, this one included.

As always, please read and review.

*****

The gentle late summer downpour only made the old house feel all the more lonely to its lone occupant. With all the funerals that he'd attended over the summer (between all the secret jobs for the ministry) Neville had finally managed to get some time to return home. Yet it didn't really feel like home anymore. Leaning back into his chair the young mage's eyes drifted towards his family portrait.

A slight shudder ran down his spine, Happosai the Horny.

"Is something wrong Neville dear?" his Gran's familiar voice called out.

Startled, Neville quickly stood up and looked around. "I didn't know you were back yet Gran," he said as he spotted her in the hallway that connected the sitting room to the main entrance.

"I just got back," she replied. Walking into the sitting room she handed her coat to the house elf. "I didn't want to stay too late after all. I thought you were going to meet up with your friends?"

"Oh, that, yeah," Neville replied as he turned his attention back to the family portrait that had held his attention before, "I should probably get ready for that soon."

"You've been looking at that a lot lately," Gran stated as she walked over to the sandy haired young man.

A pregnant silence filled the room as only the crackling fire logs filled the void.

"Gran," Neville finally said, breaking the silence, "what can you tell me about my mom's family?"

It was strange to see Gran sigh. For the first time in a long time the ancient wizard (well, she wasn't as old as Dumbledore had been) looked her age for once. Wrinkled with age and tired from a long life, she took her usual seat before the fire.

"Neville, dear," she said, in a tired voice, "I've never met any of your mother's relatives. But…"

"She really was the granddaughter of Happosai the Horny," Neville finished.

"Yes."

*****

Between his bustling workload (and the mountains of paperwork – who knew Aurors needed to do so much paperwork?) and helping Professor, no, Headmaster McGonagall and Professor Sprout with security for the repaired Hogwarts, Neville had been too busy to do anything. Fortunately many funerals, wakes, and memorials had come to a stop as the survivors of the Battle for Hogwarts had finally buried the last of their fallen.

Putting his stamp on the last of the form 787 (Medical Officer's Statement of competency) Neville rubbed his still swollen and swore hip. Having tripped over Ron during their most recent fire-fight with rogue wizards (who'd been after Draco Malfoy) Hermione had insisted that he (and Ron) both go to St. Mungo's for a physical. Despite having gotten the better of the exchange (one dark wizard, not a Deatheater, had been skewered by a falling chandelier, the other, the son of a Deatheater, had been strangled by a patch of Devil's snare) Ron's broken nose and Neville's bruised hip had merited some medical leave. Neville secretly wondered if Hermione's stern insistence hadn't been the deciding factor at the pair getting two weeks of something called worker's compensation and sick leave for the job.

With a wiry sigh, Neville stood up and stretched. _At least I don't have to use a cane_. Limping to his door he locked his office.

"Neville," a booming voice filled the tiny corridor.

Spinning around Neville snapped to attention as he faced the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Sir," he snapped back automatically.

The sight of two of his closer friends from his time in Hogwarts Neville blinked.

"Neville," Hannah said warmly.

"Hannah," he returned, "what are you doing here?"

The tall regal wizard smiled, not even bothering to ask if the two knew each other. "Ms. Abbott was here to go over the various permits and procedures needed to keep the Leaky Cauldron open," he explained.

"Seems the previous administration was keen on taking money under the table," Hannah explained. "But with the new minister I felt that it would be best if we were to officially renew all the permits."

Neville nodded. He'd had to raid and shut down several pubs because of their strong ties to dark wizards in the past months. The paper work for many had been non-existent, forcing them to close more then half of them for good. Of course that didn't help the ministry's popularity as many people simply wanted to drown their sorrows.

"Neville," Shacklebolt said, interrupting the pair's short conversation, "I realize that you're supposed to be on leave for the next two weeks, but there's an assignment that I feel you're the best man for."

The sandy haired young man blinked. With the ministry's shortage of manpower it wasn't unusual for the Aurors to be assigned extra jobs, especially when they were supposed to have time off. It was odd that the Minister himself would request that he take a job personally (though Ron and Harry were know to report directly to the Minister it was only because Harry had become the unofficial head of the Auror Department), and it was very odd that cases were assigned before civilians.

"I know what you're thinking," Shacklebolt added, "that it's unprecedented that I speak to you about an assignment before a civilian, but this isn't a case, it's a PR assignment."

Neville stiffened. PR assignments were worse. Never one for public speaking or, well, anything about speaking and making a good impression, the sandy haired youth squirmed.

"I need you to go to Japan," the Minister ordered. "They're having some issues with magic being displayed openly before muggles. While it's not our jurisdiction, it would be nice if we could send someone to observe the Japanese Ministry and assure them that our new Ministry and administration will assist them if necessary."

Unable to say no to the minister, Neville nodded, "Right sir, I'll leave right away."

"Thank you Neville," Shacklebolt replied. "Ms. Abbott will accompany you to the Leaky Cauldron where you will take a specially made Portkey to the Japanese Ministry."

*****

As a highly regarded but seriously under-trained Auror, Neville was still learning how to secretly steal glances and looks without drawing attention to himself. It didn't make it any easier knowing that the barkeep accompanying him was trained herself to notice people acting weird and to remember faces and looks.

The pretty blond (dishwater really) smiled each time he failed to secretly glance at her. While that made him feel good, it also made him wonder about why he'd become an Auror. Sure, the department had been decimated by the previous administration, and Harry had been put in charge of it. He couldn't say no to Harry, the bloke needed and trusted him.

"So," Hannah said, finally breaking the silence, "why did you join up with Harry and Ron, and become an Auror?"

"Oof!" he exclaimed as he hit the wall. He really should have been paying attention to where he was going, another subject that he needed more training in. Picking himself up he shook off the dust. "Well, Harry asked me to help, and I just couldn't say no to him."

"So just because the famous Harry Potter asked you to you became an Auror?" Hannah asked skeptically (or was she teasing him?).

"Well, I spent six years with the bloke, so I kinda know him a bit better then most," Neville shrugged. "And without my N.E.W.T.'s I couldn't really do anything else."

"What about going back to take your N.E.W.T.'s?"

_And the rest of Auror training_, Neville added mentally. "Well, maybe when there's time. But for now Shacklebolt and Harry need all the help they can get."

Hannah nodded, apparently accepting his reasoning.

"What about you?" he asked. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I don't need my N.E.W.T.'s," Hannah declared. "I'm going to help my grandfather with the Leaky for now, probably take it over in a few years when he officially retires. The war and mum's death really took a lot out of him."

The sandy haired young man nodded. "It took a lot from everyone."

Walking out of the Apparating Room (established for anyone who wanted to Apparate into the Leaky rather than letting them appear wherever they wanted) Neville followed after the shorter girl. Offhandedly he noted how much longer her hair was than the last time he'd seen her. True, she'd always kept it long, first in pigtails, then in a long pony tail, but recently she'd been letting it down.

Following her hair down to her waste and shapely hips, Neville nearly tripped as he realized he was actually watching her walk.

"You alright?" she asked as she turned around to glance at him.

"Um, it's just my hip," Neville said as he rubbed his still stiff joint. "I tripped over Ron," he added as though that explained everything.

"Oh, okay."

"So, um," he said, trying to change the subject away from his clumsiness, "why would the Minister set up a Portkey out of the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Oh, that, well," Hannah stammered, "since I've established the Leaky for Apparations, I figured that I would set up a Portkey room as well. And since they won't allow portkeys in the Ministry right now, the Minister asked if I'd mind them using the Leaky as a transit stop."

Neville blinked, that made a lot of sense. Walking into the main barroom it was clear that even the Leaky Cauldron had a long ways to go before it could match the crowds that it used to draw before the last war.

"It'll increase our traffic for now, especially with foreign witches and wizards that are coming into the country as they'll have to go through the bar to get from the Apparating room to the Portkey room and vice versa," Hannah explained. Waving to her grandfather she offered him a smile as she navigated through the sparse crowd.

"Wow, that does make a lot of sense," Neville exclaimed as he followed close behind.

"Anyways," she said, opening the door to the Portkey room, "here we are."

The large room was filled with various objects ranging from small books and office supplies to discarded clothes. To the common person (or perhaps a muggle) it looked like an overstocked supply room with a large open spot in the center of the room.

"The tall umbrella," Hannah said, pointing out the portkey.

"Oh, I forgot," Neville said as he hesitated, "someone should tell my Gran that I won't be home for a while."

Hannah nodded. "I'll let her know personally."

"Thanks," he smiled back. Grabbing the umbrella he felt a familiar sensation as the magical object came to life.

*****

In seven years at Hogwarts (with only six actually spent learning, maybe five and a half if you consider his fifth year) Neville had never really considered that there was other styles and forms of magic. Sure, runes were one thing, as were wards, glyphs, and seals weren't too far removed from runes, but Eastern magic as a whole was completely different. The biggest difference was that they didn't use tradition western wands (though some carried staff-like wands) to cast their magic.

Watching as Hiro Izumi (or was it Izumi Hiro?), his assigned liaison pulled out a brush (they didn't even use quills or pens) and deftly wrote (he resisted the urge to call it painting) a few symbols on a small sheet of paper, Neville restrained his jaw to keep it from opening too wide as a magical energy ran over the surface of the object that Hiro had attached the sheet too before said sheet vanished, almost melded into the concrete surface.

"So by putting your magical energy into the sheet, you can enhance the building with your magic?" Neville asked as he tried to wrap his head around the concept.

"Hai," Hiro replied. "I mean, yes. Using these magic enhancing brushes and inks, we write out magical symbols, thus reducing the amount of magical energy we have to use, and then infuse it into the paper. Most will simply enhance an object, but some give it other properties that the original object doesn't have."

"So what did you do there?"

"This was a ward," the short young man said as he pointed at the building, "will help ensure the privacy of those living in the building. So long as the women here keep their under garments in their apartments no one will be able to see them. This should keep the panty thief from striking this building."

Watching as Hiro created another talisman/seal; the sandy haired western mage noted the wrist motions. _No, that's completely different_.

"How would you English deal with panty thieves?" Hiro asked in perfect English, English (as apposed to American English with its strange annunciations).

"Well, we'd just use our wands to cast a ward on the building," Neville explained. "We'd probably have to set the wards to repel anyone with lustful intentions."

The short dark brown haired man nodded. "But what if everyone coming into the building has lustful intentions?"

"Well, we could also cast an illusion to keep anyone not inside the building from noticing the panties and bras," Neville added.

Again the polite older mage nodded.

"So, what do we do now?" Neville asked as Hiro put his tools away.

"We wait," the smaller man replied. "Have you tried Sake yet?"

*****

"So you're telling me that this poor unfortunate boy turns into a girl when he's splashed with water?" Neville slurred in less than perfect English as he held onto his fifth (or was it sixth?) bottle of warm sake.

Hiro nodded. "Only with cold water, warm water turns him back."

"That's a bloody mean curse!"

Again Hiro nodded. "Ancient Chinese curse with no know cure," the Japanese mage explained in broken English.

Quaffing the contents of his six (or was it fifth?) bottle, Neville set the clay bottle/jar down as his companion ordered another round.

"Boy's father turns into panda, turns back with warm water," the drunken little man explained. "Main rival turns into black piglet, another rival turns into duck, and sexy girl turns into purple cat."

Neville laughed. If he hadn't been sitting on the floor already he'd probably have fallen to the ground.

"Oh, and there is boy who turns into a mix of a yeti, ox, eel, octopus, and goose," Hiro laughed.

Too drunk to even try and combine all those creatures, Neville continued to laugh.

"Alright Hiro," the barkeep said as she placed their drinks on the table, "it's almost time."

Neville blinked away the tears in his eyes, he'd really been laughing much harder than even he had expected.

Drinking the new drink, Neville felt his drunken stupor slowly receding.

"What Yuna mean?" the sandy haired young man asked.

Slamming down his own drink Hiro sighed. "Just watch."

Turning to the large window Neville watched as a small bag of trash rolled over towards the last building they had just warded.

"Do trash bags roll around like that often in Japan?"

The blue haired barkeep snickered while Hiro sighed.

"That's not a garbage bag, Longbottom-san," the short barkeep replied. "That's your panty thief."

Leaning forward Neville watched as a tiny figure appeared beneath the bag, "A house elf? That explains why our wards wouldn't stop him."

Hiro nearly fell out of his seat.

"That's not a house elf, goblin or any other creature; it's human," Yuna chuckled.

Somehow the tiny figure managed to effortlessly scale the building, entering the various balconies and disrupting the illusion talismans protecting the inhabitants' under-garments. With each window/balcony disrupted Neville saw the small racks filled with drying unmentionables. In a flash the tiny figure liberated the silky (occasionally satin, or cotton even) fabric from the racks, filling his ever growing bag.

"AAHH! Pervert!" someone finally shouted.

Almost as though called, the victimized women all appeared in their balconies, unsurprised by their losses, though still very upset. In a matter of seconds the enraged horde of women (fortunately all clothed) sprang into action as they chased down the panty thief.

"How do you not catch someone like him?" Neville asked as he grabbed a jar of warm sake.

"This is as close as I get, Longbottom-san," Hiro said dejectedly. "I don't know who I offended, but apparently they decided that I would either catch the infamous Nerima panty thief or retire."

"Retirement isn't that bad," Yuna smirked.

Neville blinked. "You…"

"I used to be the field agent in charge of Nerima," the blue haired witch, er, mage replied. "There is an old Chinese curse – 'May you live in interesting times'. I never realized just how much of a curse that was until I two years ago. One year ago I retired, and now, well…"

Offering another jar of warm sake she set it down before Hiro.

"Just watch," Yuna suggested.

Nodding dumbly, Neville watched as the surprisingly spry old man taunted his victims. Each time they gained on him he turned a corner or slipped through a window, just escaping the clutches of his pursuers.

Suddenly a boy, no, a young man, wearing a red silk shirt and black pants arrived. Skillfully he kicked the old man into the angry horde of women. Neville shuddered as the women pounded on the tiny figure mercilessly. He'd never seen such angry women before, and he hoped that he'd never have to.

After five minutes the beating finally subsided, only for the remaining women to realize that the crafty thief had once again eluded them.

"How'd…."

"We don't know," Hiro said as he quaffed a small cup full of the warm liquor. "All we know is that he leaves light traces of magic but not enough for us to put a trace on. It's like dealing with a squib – not enough magic to register, but just enough to do something."

Neville nodded as he leaned back.

"Keep watching," Yuna repeated as the window now focused on a scene several blocks away from the dispersing crowd. No longer centered on the street, it focused on the young man in a red shirt and black pants.

"Who's that?"

Yuna simply directed his attention back to the enchanted scrying window. The pigtailed boy wasn't alone. Beside him, well, actually beside the fence that he walked on was a cute girl with short hair. Her white and blue outfit was pretty plain but still stood out when one considered that the rest of the kids their age were wearing school uniforms.

Another kid shouted as he leapt through the air at the red shirted boy.

"We should probably put up a translation charm on this so Longbottom-san can follow," Yuna suggested as she quickly painted a talisman and threw it at the window.

"I'll beat you this time Ranma!" the new boy shouted.

"Hey P-chan, how's Kyoto?"

"P-chan?" Neville repeated. "That's…"

"A nick-name," Yuna explained. "Just watch."

Sipping his sake Neville watched as the two boys leapt over house (without any noticeable magic) crushed concrete statues, leveled and mangled park equipment, and generally destroyed everything in their path as they fought. Soon more fighters joined in. First a long haired boy wearing white and shooting out unimaginable amounts of bladed weapons at the first boy. Another boy welding what looked to be a wooden sword also attacked the first boy but succeeded only in sundering the objects around his target.

"Wooh!" the sandy haired young man exclaimed. Though he lacked Harry and Ron's natural athletic ability, Neville was sure that even those two wouldn't be able to keep up with all the action.

As quickly as it had begun it all ended as the destructive quartet found themselves on a bridge. In moments the now heavily damaged bridge gave way, sending the foursome crashing into the river beneath them.

"Man, now I have to fix a bridge," Hiro grumbled. "I'm definitely burning my bridges with the Damage Control committee with this one."

"Just bill the Tendo's again," Yuna suggested.

"They're two months behind as it is," the brown haired man stated. "There's no way they're going to be able to keep up with all the repairs."

"Then bill the Kuno family," the blunette replied.

"Shouldn't we, um, rescue the fighters?" Neville asked.

"Oh, they're fine," Hiro said as he pointed at the scrying window.

"There was someone else on the bridge?" the English wizard asked as he leaned forward.

"Oh, her," Yuna snickered. "Longbottom-san, don't you remember Izumi-kun telling you about the boy who turned into a girl when he got splashed with cold water?"

Neville blinked. "I… I thought you were joshing me."

Slowly a duck and a black piglet pulled themselves out of the water. Neville even expected some monstrous mix of a yeti, ox, eel, goose, and octopus to appear as well but was disappointed when the wooden sword wielding boy simply floated to the surface.

Quaffing down the last of this bottle, er, jar of sake Neville wondered if the Japanese pair were simply trying to pull one over on him.

"Izumi-kun, why don't you take Longbottom-san to the council meeting," Yuna suggested. "If you're lucky he'll get to meet Tendo-sama and Saotome-sama."

*****

A/N

Hopefully my use of Japanese honorifics doesn't offend anyone. I hope you like the chapter.

As always, please read and review. Oh, and check out the poll on my profile.

Dreamingfox


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes –

No more disclaimers – I posted them on the first chapter of this particular fic. I hope you're not that ignorant of ownership issues with this fic if you've been reading it this long.

*****

"Gran's going to kill me," Neville mumbled as he looked at his reflection. Turning his head to the side he tried to get a better look at the earring he now sported.

"If your grandmother is so against it Longbottom-san, you can always remove it once your job here is done and heal your ear," Izumi stated. "That translation charm will make things much easier for you. Or you could always try to learn Japanese instead."

Neville shrugged, resigned to the fact that he'd have to wear an earring. Not only did he already have it in, but he was only supposed to be in Japan a few more days. "So you're sure this Tendo-san is going to be at this meeting?"

Hiro nodded, "Tendo-san and Saotome-san usually show up at the district meetings. As respected martial arts masters they are often asked to handle issued like handling the panty thief and dealing with petty crimes like vandalism."

"Isn't that why you have police?"

"Yes, the police handle many things; but is it too much to ask to have your neighbors helping out as well? If everyone lends a hand then we have less need to rely on just the police to deter crime. As upstanding members of the community and neighborhood they set a good example for others as well as advertise their dojo by patrolling the streets and discouraging small crimes," Hiro explained.

Wrapping his head around the notion, Neville just couldn't see Harry or Ron doing such work. True, they were both officially listed as Aurors, but even as students the pair, well, Harry, would have probably stand out to much to be effective. And Draco? Well, he'd never stoop to doing anything like that; it was too pedestrian for any of the Malfoy family. If not for the fact that their family had been stripped of much of their fortune and each of them had been sentenced to some community service and manual labor Neville was sure that none of the Malfoy line would dare to be seen in public doing actual work or trying to deter criminal behavior.

"So why do you go to the community meetings?" Neville asked.

"Because I am now a part of the community," Hiro replied. "It is my duty to help protect this neighborhood. I, and many of others in my position, find that the best way to protect the areas we are stationed is to become a part of it."

"But you're a wizard," the sandy haired young man replied, "I mean, you're a mage. What about keeping muggle and magical affairs separate?"

"That's the main difference between mage and wizards - aside from the fact that we don't use wands of course. Here we live alongside our non-magical brethren, not apart from them." Pointing up at a lantern the smaller man nodded, "These lanterns are meant to ward off evil spirits. Most households have one, maybe more. Most also have shrines in their houses to honor their ancestors. Westerners view many eastern cultures as superstitious, but that is only because your muggles have forgotten the role of magic in their everyday life."

Pondering the many insights that Hiro had provided him, Neville absently listened to Hiro's lecture, absorbing some more ideas as well as differences between their respective magic cultures.

"If you were in another neighborhood you'd probably see more demons," Hiro stated.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Neville blinked. "Demons?"

The smaller man nodded as he turned around. "They're very common in Japan; we probably have the largest population of demons in the world. That's why so many families have those special lanterns or other protective talisman. It's also the reason why most magi don't use their magic openly."

Neville paled at the notion. "So they're not in Nerima because of the wards you put up?"

An unusual smirk appeared on the smaller man's face. Though Hiro was fairly friendly, Neville couldn't help but think that his host was simply being polite. But the odd smirk was the first honest expression that had graced the older man's face. "I cannot claim credit for that feat," he admitted. "No, Nerima famous for the insanely powerful martial artists."

"Martial artists? Like karate?"

"You're very knowledgeable," Hiro said, complementing him. "Few wizards felt the need to practice such a physical art. Why would they when they could do things with a flick of the wrist? But here in the east magi learn at least one of the many martial arts.

"Nerima is home to the infamous Slayer of the Phoenix King."

"I've never heard of him," the young wizard stated.

"Just like most magi have never heard of Voldemort or Harry Potter," Hiro countered. "We are a world away from each other.

"The Phoenix King rules over a large clan of half-human, half phoenix people," Hiro explained. "Only the king is capable of being reborn, just like a phoenix."

"So how did he get killed if he's just going to be reborn?"

"A phoenix, and the phoenix king, can be killed, but it takes a lot to kill one. The battle in which the Phoenix King was killed sundered a mountain and flooded a valley in China."

Hiro stopped suddenly, extending his arm to keep Neville from walking into the path of an out of control martial artist as said martial artist crashed into the ground, creating a deep trench.

Sighing, Hiro pulled out some paper and his brush. "I guess we won't make it to the meeting tonight."

Neville watched as a young man wearing an odd yellow shirt, black pants and a yellow bandana with black spots pulled himself out of the trench and sprang to into the air.

"Ha!" the youth shouted. "You think that's going to keep me down?!"

"And then there are all the rivals that live here or somehow are drawn here," Hiro sighed as he placed his talisman on the ground, repairing the damage to the street.

"Does this happen all the time?" Neville asked.

Hiro nodded solemnly, "Just watch."

The tall young man watched as the bandana wearing boy charged at another youth, this one wearing a red silk shirt and black pants. _He looks familiar… Where did I see him before?_

The street erupted in a shower of broken concrete as the first boy jammed his finger into the street.

Neville's eyes bulged at the sight.

The other boy vanished, only to appear several meters away from the first.

"Is that all you've got P-chan?" the youth shouted, taunting his opponent.

Again the bandana wearing boy charged his opponent. Still airborne the boy was unable to defend himself from the golden orb of energy that the other boy shot at him. Crashing down in a puddle of water the boy vanished.

Neville's jaw nearly hit the ground.

The boy had vanished, but not his clothes. Only a tiny black piglet remained.

"No, he's not an Animagus," Hiro stated. "If he was his clothes would have changed with him."

Picking up his jaw, Neville closed his mouth. "W-what was that?"

"That is just one of the normal things that happen everyday in Nerima," Hiro explained. "The first martial artist you saw Ryoga Hibiki."

"The one who turns into that black piglet," Neville stated, still in shock. "You weren't just pulling my leg."

Eyes darting to the boy in red, Neville watched as the second martial artist approached the piglet. The sudden appearance of an old woman with a ladle in her hand as she washed her sidewalk changed the scene. Gone was the raven haired boy as he was replaced with a redheaded girl.

Neville's jaw hit the ground again, quickly followed by the rest of Neville's face.

"I told you that there was one boy who turned into a girl when he was splashed with cold water," Hiro shrugged. Grabbing the stunned youth, he helped his companion back to his feet.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Hiro said as he placed a talisman on Neville's back. "That should help me get you back to your hotel."

*****

Neville was mentally exhausted. Even though he'd slept peacefully (thanks to a sleeping potion that Hiro had given him) he couldn't help but think of all the blatant displays of magic before non-magical civilians. Not only had the red shirted boy shot some sort of magical energy at the bandana wearing boy, he had transformed the boy into a black piglet.

"So you saw one of Nerima's more notable residents," Yuna smirked as she poured some tea into Neville's empty cup.

"He saw Ranma Saotome in person," Hiro added.

"The bane of my time when I held your position," Yuna laughed as she seated herself at another table.

"I thought the old man was your bane."

"Nope, Happosai's your bane," the blue haired retired mage stated.

"I don't know how he does it, but gets by all of my wards and talisman," the small man conceded.

"Happosai?" Neville repeated. "Happosai the Horny Happosai?"

Yuna and Hiro exchanged looks.

"You know about Happosai but not the Phoenix King?" Hiro asked.

The sandy haired youth nodded, "I'm kinda related to him."

Both Yuna and Hiro hit the floor, their chairs upended at their companion's proclamation.

Having dealt with the chaos of Nerima for much longer than her replacement, Yuna managed to recover first. "What?!"

Pulling himself to his feet and ignoring the chair, Hiro slammed his hands onto the table. "You're related to Happosai?!"

"He's my great-grandfather on my mother's side," Neville sighed.

Subconsciously Yuna began to pat her self, making sure that she still possessed her undergarments. She would not be wearing a skirt or dress around Neville any more.

*****

Looking up at the large wooden doors, Neville felt an odd mixture of emotions. Yuna had basically kicked him out of the café, forcing Hiro to take Neville to the Tendo dojo to meet with the only established student of Happosai (the other student was said to be residing at the dojo as well). Though part of him wanted to meet with his ancestor, the rest of him demanded that he return to England and forget that he had ever heard of his mother's grandfather.

"There's a reason why other magi avoid learning at the Tendo dojo," Hiro said as he stood straight. "Though their teachings are powerful, few want to associate themselves with Happosai. Only the upstarts like Hibiki and Kuonji or the insane like the Kuno family willingly associate themselves with such a powerful but infamous master."

Neville's stomach hit the floor.

"But despite his… perversion, Happosai did found a new style of magic," Hiro added. "How else do you explain the impossible things he's been able to do?"

Knocking on the large double doors, Hiro took a deep breath. Neville did the same, hoping to calm his nerves.

It didn't take long for a polite brunette to answer the door. "Oh, Izumi-san, what brings you here today?"

Absently Neville listened to the formalities and as Hiro introduced him to the eldest of the Tendo daughters. Following behind the others, he tried to make sense of all the events that had led him to where he was now.

Slipping off his shoes, Neville trailed after Hiro as the pair was lead into a sitting room. Following Hiro's lead the sandy haired young man knelt rather than sat as Kasumi left the room. It seemed as though an eternity passed before a tall man with long hair and mustache, and a shorter, rotund man with odd glasses and a cloth wrapped over his bald head entered the room. Settling into a kneeling position on the opposite end of the room the two men bowed.

Following Hiro's lead, Neville bowed.

"Izumi-san, we missed you at the meeting last night," the long haired man said.

"I was on my way when a fight broke out," Hiro replied. "Seeing that it was Ranma and Ryoga I was forced to do some hasty repairs so as not endanger the residents."

"Haha," the bald man laughed boldly. "They're still young; I'll talk with Ranma about limiting the property damage."

"There is also the matter of the damages incurred over the week," Hiro added as he pulled out an envelope. "I realize that Nabiki is still at school, but I'm sure you'll give this to her tonight."

Sliding over the envelope, he made sure that the long haired man received it.

"Izumi-san, you haven't even introduced us to your companion," the rotund man said, trying to redirect the conversation.

Hiro smiled a predatory smile. "Thank you for reminding me Saotome-san, where are my manors."

Neville offered a polite bow, "Longbottom Neville." _I hope I got that right_, the sandy haired youth thought.

"Longbottom-san has come from England," Hiro stated. "He has been observing the differences between magi and wizards and witches."

"Ah, there are many," the be-speckled man chuckled nervously.

"Yes, there are," Neville replied.

"It's funny," Hiro smirked, an evil gleam in his eyes, "even in England, which is essentially a world away, Happosai is infamous."

Both Tendo and Saotome blanched.

"It seems that in England they refer to him as 'Happosai the Horny'," Hiro added, trying his best to annunciate it in proper English. "Of course we call him 'Hentai Happosai', well, those of us who know of him at least.

"But I digress. After all, we shouldn't be speaking ill of Longbottom-san's grandfather."

"Great-grandfather," Neville corrected.

"Oh, my apologies, your great-grandfather," Hiro amended, grinning as though he were the Cheshire cat.

Both Tendo and Saotome fell over as a gentle breeze filled the room.

"Oh my, I think we broke them," Hiro said, his manic grin slowly fading.

*****

A/N

I think I'll just leave things where they're at for now.

Neville meets Ranma next chapter.

Please Read and Review.

Dreamingfox


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes –

No more disclaimers – I posted them on the first ten chapters or so of the fic. I hope you're not that ignorant of ownership issues with this fic if you've been reading it this long.

Expect at least one update per month with this fic. If you've followed my other fics you'll know that I'm currently pumping out a lot of chapters for that fic as well as that I've actually slowed down the updates as it is now NFL Season and Fantasy Football Season too. Yes, the Pack lost to the traitor, and they could have done better, but it's only one game. Hopefully the O-line can shore up and protect Rodgers better (I do have him starting for two of my five leagues as well).

*****

The magenta stone shone brightly in the dark room, striking an odd dichotomy with the silvery light emanating from the silvery liquid in the tall carved stone structure. Silver and grey clouds formed in the liquid, casting odd shadows throughout the room save for the corner where the magenta stone lay.

The door to the room creaked open then quickly shut as the tall, redheaded man slipped inside the room. The accomplished wizard had lived a good life, and though he was still relatively young for a wizard he knew that he'd seen and done much more than many of his contemporaries.

Reaching out for the magenta stone he carefully placed it on his ear before grabbing the vial that had sat behind the stone.

Ronald Weasley knew that his wife hated the fact that he was sliding into someone else's memories. But Neville had given the memory to him for Christmas.

When the tall, sandy haired young mage had returned from Japan Ron had tried to pry the story out of the usually mousy wizard. But after getting nearly beaten to a pulp by Neville's significantly shorter companion, Ron had learned never to ask about Japan. Apparently what happened in Japan stayed in Japan. Neither Neville nor Ranma ever talked about what had transpired in Japan, particularly in how they had met.

Yet Neville had given him the small vial for Christmas, but only after having the redhead promise to never tell anyone about anything that was in the memory. Curious as to why Neville was finally opening up about the incident (it had been over ten years ago), Ronald Weasley couldn't help but eye the small vial in his hand.

Uncorking the bottle, he poured the silvery liquid into the Pensive. Plunging his head into the liquid memory, he found himself pulled into Neville's memory.

Soft grays colored the memory, unsurprising as it was an old memory. Colors tended to fade after the accumulated information of future years were added on. Still, the image was clear and crisp regardless of the lack of colors.

"I think we broke him," the tiny man said as two taller and larger men lay passed out in the floor.

One, the rotund one, was clearly balding as he wore some sort of cap to cover his shiny dome. The other had long flowing locks of black hair and an equally menacing mustache. Both wore robe-like outfits that Hermione had called 'Gi', something that martial artists wore to distinguish themselves from non-martial artists.

Turning his head Ron quickly found Neville, or the young Neville. It was odd seeing this younger version of his friend and former class and dorm mate. After ten years of being around each other even as occasionally as they were, it was clear to Ron that he and Neville had certainly aged a lot since their days in Hogwarts and even the days following Hogwarts.

This young Neville stood slightly slouched, well, he was actually kneeling, but still, his posture was awful. Seeing the way Neville moved made him wonder how the tall and gangly young wizard had become such a valuable Auror. True, Neville had earned his position after the Battle for Hogwarts, but even then he had been slightly clumsy and mistake prone. It wasn't until after he'd returned from Japan that things had changed….

"Wha-what happened?" Neville shouted as he sprang to his feet. Beside him the short man (well, short compared to Neville and Ron) stood up and rushed to the sides of the two stricken men.

"What'd you do to my father?" a young woman shouted as she rushed in from the large opening leading out to the yard. Her short hair was obviously black, but her light gray dress suggested that it was either a light blue or maybe a pale green color, though nothing significant if Neville didn't remember it. Then again, the young Neville was never very attentive or keen on remembering things. That had changed too after his return from Japan…

"I—" Neville began to say before being cut off by the appearance of a wooden mallet the size of his chest.

Ron blinked as he watched Neville get hit by the now angry girl. Flying through the wall (which was paper thin) and into the hallway, it amazed Ron that his friend was still alive. Even witches and wizards couldn't take that kind of abuse regularly. And where the hell had she conjured that mallet from? She didn't use a wand or anything, and she obviously wasn't carrying it under her admittedly long skirt (though not as long as a robe).

If not for Neville's sacrifice his companion probably wouldn't have survived. Fortunately the small man managed to produce some paper and a brush – drawing/painting quickly he threw it at the enraged girl, robbing her of the magical mallet.

Somehow Neville managed to pull himself to his feet and back into the wrecked room, just in time for the timely appearance of another girl with short hair and dressed similar to the first, younger girl. It was clear to Ron that the three women (well one woman and two younger girls) were related as they each resembled each other just enough to hint that they were possibly sisters, or maybe just cousins.

"What the hell is going on?" the second girl asked as she rushed to hold back her enraged sister.

"These two…" the enraged girl muttered, "they did something to father."

"Akane," the tallest and oldest of the three said calmly as she stepped between her sisters and the two wizards, "they came here to tell our fathers something."

"They're not here to collect on some bills, are they?" the second girl asked as she eyed the smaller man's suit.

"No Nabiki, they're not," the older sibling replied.

"What could they have said that would have caused this?" the one known as Nabiki asked.

"It appears that the young man Akane just assaulted is grandfather Happosai's great-grandson," the mild mannered woman answered.

_Wait - did she just call Happosai her grandfather? _

"You mean someone actually let the old letch, well, you know," a fourth figure asked.

Ron turned to regard the newest speaker. A busty young girl with bright red hair, red eyes, and wearing a silky red shirt and black pants stood in the entranceway. Clearly something about her had caught Neville's eye.

I wonder if Hannah knows about her?

"Ranma!" the girl known as Akane shouted indignantly.

_Ranma?_

"Seriously, you all call the old letch grandpa but he's not really related to you though blood," the redhead shrugged. "But for someone to actually…" The girl trembled. "I don't even want to think about it."

_Ranma? He did wear a red silk shirt, just like that one when he kicked me around. And that pigtail… I couldn't be…_

"What's that sonny?" a bouncing blur shouted before latching itself onto Ranma's noticeable assets.

The redhead screamed then tried to attack the perverted, shriveled old man. The dirty brown outfit and his weathered appearance clearly had made an impression on Neville, though maybe it was the fact that this man was his ancestor that had made him stand out to Neville.

_Is that a goblin? Or maybe a house elf? _

"Grandfather!" the one known as Kasumi admonished, prompting both Ranma and the tiny Letcher to stop their antics. "This young man claims to be your great-grandson."

"Happosai lives here?" the Japanese wizard exclaimed. "They've been sheltering the bane of the neighborhood?"

Clearly skeptical the old rogue walked over to Neville as he ignored the rants and raving of the wizard.

"Abigail?" Neville mumbled, still trying to recover from the beating he'd endured.

Happosai's already large eyes widened then returned to normal. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Everyone but Happosai and Neville fell to the floor.

Scrambling to their feet the others shook off their shock.

"How the hell do you not remember sleeping with someone?" Akane shouted as she straightened her skirt.

"When you've lived as long as I have you forget things like that," Happosai grumbled.

"You were probably drunk," Ranma interjected.

CRACK!

Ranma was sent flying, though her top somehow remained floating in the air where Ranma had been. Neville and the mage beside him suddenly fell over with a sudden gush of blood from their noses as a topless Ranma, her breasts giggling, shook off the blow and the sudden impact with the much sturdier wall.

"Okay old man, I'm going to get you for that!" the topless girl shouted as she leapt at the tiny man with his dented metal pipe. Though she failed to connect with the jump kick she did recover her shirt. Pulling it on she grabbed a cup of hot tea and dumped it on her head.

Ron's eyes bulged as the busty redheaded girl was replaced with a raven haired boy. Well muscled and clearly pissed, the master martial artist leapt after his tiny prey.

Suddenly Ranma was downed as bike appeared out of nowhere, though how it had appeared right on Ranma's head was a mystery. The beautiful and busty girl in her white outfit with what appeared to be flowers held several trays of food perfectly balanced in her right hand while steering the bike with her left.

"Nihao!"

"Son-in-law," a tiny woman with grayish-silver hair said as she hopped off the back of the bike and landed on top of her thick cane, "it is time for you to finally marry Shampoo."

"There's no way in hell I'm letting him marry her!" Akane shouted as she slipped out of Nabiki's arms. The sudden appearance of the large wooden mallet made Ron believe that she was willing to back up her words.

"Why does this always happen?" Nabiki muttered as she and Kasumi quickly vacated the room and dragging the two unconscious old men out of the room.

Ron was glad that he couldn't be injured as the fight broke out between Akane and the other girl known as Shampoo. Somehow the second girl had managed to produce two large maces (though they appeared to be clubs topped with beach balls). The two girls fought vigorously, leveling the room before moving out to the yard.

"Shouldn't we stop this?" Neville shouted as he whipped out his wand and began to repair the damage that told the tale of their fight.

"This happens everyday young man," the ancient crone replied as she hopped up beside him. "You're new hear, and obviously not one of the usual Japanese magi.

Ron blinked. Clearly she wasn't a muggle.

"This is Cologne," the Japanese mage said, introducing the ancient crone to the young western wizard. "She's an elder from China, and a matriarch in the Amazon tribe. She's here to try and convince Ranma to marry her great-granddaughter."

"Ah, Hiro, I guess he's following you for some sort of exchange program?" the silvery-gray haired crone said as she turned to address the Japanese mage.

"Yes," Hiro nodded politely, "but he's here to pay respects to his great-grandfather."

Cologne's eyes bulged. "He's Happosai's descendant?"

Hiro quickly backpedaled.

"You are an enemy of the Amazons!" Cologne shouted as she attempted to crack Neville over the head with her cane. Only a sudden and reflexive shielding Charm kept Neville from having his skull caved in.

Suddenly a rain of weighted chains and knives flew at Neville, forcing him to put up another shielding charm.

"Today you die Saotome!" a robed figure shouted. The clear source of the barrage, the young man leapt into the air and fired off several more long range weapons before Ranma kicked him out of the air. Only the timely intervention of several magical tags kept the weapons from reaching Neville.

"I'm right here you moron!" Ranma shouted as he landed on the wall. "And why the hell are you trying to kill him?"

"If he's Happosai's descendant than I must kill him," Cologne stated as she eyed Neville. "Happosai and all his descendants are enemies to all the Amazon Tribes! He and his bloodline will pay for his crimes against us!"

"He's a member of the British Ministry of Magic's delegation," Hiro shouted as he moved between Neville and the old crone. "Not to mention one of their war heroes. If you kill him you'll be bringing down the wraith of their ministry upon your tribe."

"Than I'll have to make it look like an accident," Cologne scowled.

"Now, now, don't be so drastic," Happosai said as he hopped into the yard. "I don't even remember or recognize him."

"Hah, that's not a surprise," Cologne shot back, "you didn't even remember me!"

Ranma, Mousse, Hiro, and Neville fell over.

"You mean…" Ranma started.

"The two of you…" Mousse said.

Hiro pulled himself to his feet then helped Neville up.

"We did?" Happosai said as he tilted his head to one side then the other. "Oh, we did!"

Cologne blushed a bright red. "I will never live it down! But if I can kill you and your descendant than I'll rid myself of that stain!"

Leaping into the air Cologne tried to unleash an attack on the unprepared mage and wizard, only to have Happosai skillfully deflect her attacks harmlessly. "I can't let you harm my only descendant!"

"Mousse – kill that boy! He's an enemy of the tribe!" Cologne shouted as she crossed her cane with Happosai's pipe. "If you do than I'll put in a good word with the Council!"

"I bear you no grudge foul sorcerer," Mousse said as he put his glasses on, "but if I kill you than I can marry my beloved Shampoo."

"You're going to bring down the wraith of the British Ministry on us!" Hiro shouted as he scrambled to protect Neville from the flying knives and daggers that flew threw the air.

"Foul Sorcerer!" a new figure shouted as he leapt into the air. "I knew that you were using your evil magics to bind my pigtailed goddess, but to entrap the entire Tendo clan with your magics and my beautiful Akane is worse than unforgivable! I shall smite thee!"

"Go away Kuno!" Ranma shouted as he narrowly evaded several strikes from the wooden sword. Finally spotting an opening he countered, connecting with a solid kick that sent the older boy flying into Mousse. "Sorry about that Mousse!"

"Ranma," Happosai shouted as he countered yet another of Cologne's attacks, "get Abigail's great-grandson out of here. Do that and I'll grant you the title of Master of Anything Goes – you'll be able to start up your own dojo and I'll break your engagements to Akane and Ukyo."

"What about Shampoo?" the pigtailed boy asked as he kicked Kuno in the head, knocking the older boy out.

"There's a statue of limitation on her kiss of marriage," the old letch replied.

"How did you know about that?" Cologne shouted as another attack was parried.

"Aside from the treasures I stole from the Amazons I also managed to get a copy of the village laws," the old grandmaster grinned as he evaded another attack. "The kiss of death and Kiss of Marriage only last for two years. Ranma's got another two months to go before Shampoo has to give up on the later or be banned from the village. That's why you came here today – to force Ranma to marry her or else you'd lose your hand picked heir."

"I'm going to kill you Happi!" the ancient Amazon shouted as she landed on the wall. "Shampoo – kill the Tendo girl!"

"Yes great-grandmother!" the younger Amazon shouted. Discarding her mace like weapons she pulled out twin swords.

"Oh no you don't sugar," another young boy shouted as he launched an attack on the Amazon. "If you go another two months without marrying Ranma than you're out of the picture for good. Then it'll be between just me and Akane!"

Ron's eyes bulged as he took that in. _Ranma was engaged to a guy?_

"You forget me you peasant!" another girl shouted. "But then again, that's just the difference between you and me – what good is such a lowborn common cross-dressing girl like you when Ranma-honey can have me?"

The new girl, wearing a thong leotard, leapt onto the wall opposite of the boy, er, girl. Lashing out with some ribbon-like whip she managed to wrap the end of it around Shampoo's wrist.

"Shampoo no have time to play with crazy girl and spatula girl," the Amazon growled. "Me kill Akane then kill you so there only Shampoo and Ranma left!"

"Two months Mousse," Ranma said as he eyed his rival. "If she doesn't marry me in the next too months than you're free to have her."

Mousse seriously contemplated the offer. True, Shampoo would have to return to the village disgraced, but she'd be his. "Agreed! I help you stay away from Shampoo for two months and then I can go back to the Village for Shampoo!"

Ron watched as the chaos erupted around Neville and Hiro. The crazy martial artists attacked relentlessly and yet managed to defend themselves from each other as they fought. Though some alliances were formed (Ranma and Mousse) the girls were less likely to work together despite what had appeared to be a common goal. Crazy leotard girl, Spatula boy/girl, and Akane each fought against Shampoo but each appeared willing to let the others get injured or even killed as that would also eliminate them as a rival for Ranma's affections.

"Ranma!" a new voice shouted, this one wearing a bright yellow bandana with black spot, though the rest of his attire was grayish, thus less notable obviously to Neville. "Prepare to die!"

Leaping from an impossible height the new fighter launched a powerful punch at the pigtailed boy, only to miss the elusive young man. The impressive crater he made as his punch connected with the ground had Ron worried. Clearly these were no ordinary muggles, hell, they weren't ordinary magi. Where they perhaps using some unknown magic?

"What the hell are you doing here bacon breath?" Ranma shouted as he threw Neville several meters into the air.

_He has to be levitating himself_, Ron thought as he watched how high his friend flew though the air. _But when the hell did he cast it?_

Dodging another mighty punch Ranma nimbly countered with an equally powerful kick that sent the bandana wearing boy flying nearly as far as Neville was high before crashing into the stone wall that separated the yard from the street outside. Seeing the barrage of flying bandanas Ron knew why Neville had thought the bandana was so memorable.

Glad to not have to dodge the impressive weapons the redhead reflexively patted his chest and neck where the flying, spinning cloth weapons had passed through him. Seeing the large downed power lines and cleanly cut metal lamp posts that fell victim to the flying projectiles reaffirmed his conclusion as to why Neville thought the bandanas were so remarkable.

"Get out of here Saotome!" Mousse shouted as he knocked the remaining bandanas out of the air.

_How the hell did he conjure all those weapons?_ Ron thought as he watched the long haired boy pull countless weapons out of his sleeves.

The seemingly endless barrage pinned the new boy down, keeping him far away from Ranma and Neville.

"We need to get Longbottom-san out of here!" the tiny and apparently forgotten Japanese mage shouted as he pulled Ranma and the sandy haired youth out of the yard. "There's a portkey station not to far from here!"

"I will find you boy!" Cologne shouted as forced Happosai onto the defensive only to have a barrage of weapons from Mousse force her to break away. "I'll get you too Mousse!"

"No you won't! That boy is my heir!" the tiny man shouted as he pulled what appeared to be a bomb out of nowhere and launched it at the equally small and shriveled woman. "Happo-burst!"

Knocking the explosive down the woman laughed as the bomb blew up harmlessly, leaving little more than a cloud of smoke.

"I guess you're just coming up short, aren't you Happi!" the ghoul laughed as she leapt through the smoke.

Happosai laughed. "That's man repellant incense – you won't be able to go near any male for days!"

The old crone's eyes bulged, widening even more than Ron thought possible (which was really amazing considering how wide her eyes already were). Clutching her nose she instinctively jumped back as Happosai the Horny leapt at her.

Pulling out another bomb he grinned manically. "Hahahaha! You're beaten Cologne, admit it! As long as I have this you and your Amazons can't come near my heirs! Go Ranma, take Neville and Hiro with you. I'll cover your retreat."

With the lure of becoming an official master of the art, thus an equal to his father, as well as being able to get out of his many engagements, Ranma nodded as he accepted his grandmaster's order.

The large plume of thick smoke filled the yard, giving Ranma and company the cover they needed as they fled the Tendo's.

Unable to follow Neville through the smoke, Ron simply stood his ground until it cleared. Slowly the memory began to fade as Neville left the area.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed. "If this is what Ranma faced on a daily basis no wonder the guy was so… weird. I can't believe Neville managed to survive that."

Pulled out of the memory Ron shook his head.

"No wonder he waited so long to show this to me…" he mumbled. "I probably would have pissed myself laughing if he'd shown this to me when he first got back. And it's no wonder Nev changed so much. Hell, this is probably as traumatizing as walking in on Harry and Ginny." Trembling at the thought, Ron shook his head to clear out the mental images.

"I definitely need a drink," he mumbled as he collected the memory and put it back in the jar. Removing the magenta stone from his ear he placed it on the cork to the tiny vial. "Maybe I'll show this to Hermione sometime… or not…"

*****

A/N

I think I'll just leave things where they're at for now.

I have decided to do a side-story to this fic. What if Lord Voldemort had chosen Neville instead of Harry? Neville growing up with Happosai and learning Happosai's style of magic. I will still continue this fic, but I will also be working on that side story after having set it up with these chapters in this fic.

Please Read and Review.

Dreamingfox


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes –

No more disclaimers – I posted them on the first ten chapters or so of the fic. I hope you're not that ignorant of ownership issues with this fic if you've been reading it this long.

Expect at least one update per month with this fic. Yes, I am still going to keep the fic up as I have some interesting ideas as to what is going to happen to the characters.

*****

Wind rushed through sandy brown hair, reminding the youth of his one and only time on a broom. That incident had been memorable to many for a variety of reasons, but for the youth it a mixture of pride (at having the famous Harry Potter sand up for him), and embarrassment (at not being able to handle a broom and breaking his arm).

Though he was not on a broom, Neville couldn't help but feel the same emotion running through him as he had actually experienced during that memorable ride on the broom – fear. As an Auror, and having lived through the Second War with Voldemort (and spending much of that in 'enemy hands' while in Hogwarts) the young wizard had faced down many terrifying opponents, and yet none of them terrified him as much as the crazy old crone on the stick. The attacks she and her opponent, the equally tiny and powerful Happosai, hurtled at each other made Dumbledore's duel with Grindelwald pale in comparison. True, he hadn't actually seen the famous duel first hand, though he had seen it second hand through someone else's memories.

And then there was the mass chaos that had erupted in the Tendo's house. That made the Battle for Hogwarts look like the running battle he'd had in the Ministry of Magic back at the end of his fifth year. Despite the relatively small number of participants involved the chaos and destruction was unbelievable. Entire blocks had been leveled by the various fighters, and yet no one, even the many civilians, had been injured as a result of the raging battle. Well, the fighters were slowly racking up an increasing number of injuries, but what were bruises compared to leveled buildings and demolished streets?

Despite all the chaos his two companions, or partners in crime, seemed to take everything in stride. Granted, they were running for their lives, with him in tow. Somehow they had managed to put considerable distance between themselves and the battle which could still be seen even though they were several city blocks away. Of course being carried in a rough fireman's carry gave him a great view of the battle that they were fleeing from.

After a few hectic moments Neville guessed that they were at least several kilometers away. Apparently safe, or at least at their intended destination, Neville finally felt solid ground under his feet. Still unsteady from their sudden flight, the sandy haired youth slumped to the ground immediately. Roof hopping definitely ranked up there with riding a broom as a means of travel that he would not be using anytime soon.

"This is a portkey," Hiro explained to the still stunned Neville and the pigtailed boy.

"What's a 'Portkey'?" Ranma asked as he eyed the mage. "It looks like an empty Dragon Ball Z bento box."

"Well, it is," the Japanese mage replied. "But it's been enchanted to teleport anyone who touches it to a specific destination."

"And where would that be?" the skeptical martial artist asked.

"Turkey," the smaller man replied, "to the World Cup."

"The World Cup's in France," Ranma shot back. Though he was a martial artist first, even he knew what the World Cup was and where it was being held.

"Not the Football World Cup," Hiro corrected.

"He means the Quidditch World Cup," Neville stated as he finally regained enough strength in his legs to stand up. "But with the other World Cup going on it'll probably be enough to throw the old crone off if she tries to come after us. She'd expect us to go to France since it's so close to England."

Hiro nodded. "Once you're gone I'll start the paperwork to have Cologne detained for her crimes. She can't just kill anyone she wants to and she's caused enough destruction and damages to Nerima to warrant that at least. That should give you two some more time."

"You mean she's going to get out of this?" Neville exclaimed.

"She's officially here for diplomatic relations," Hiro stated, "even though she's actually here for Ranma. The only reason she hasn't been actively going after Ranma with all her might is that the Japanese Ministry has been keeping her in line. Attempting to kill even squibs is bad, but trying to kill another foreign mage on a diplomatic mission is very bad. This could even spark another secret war between our Ministry and theirs."

Neville blanched. It was worse than he'd expected.

"More than likely though the Japanese Ministry will use this as leverage against the Chinese Ministry and British Ministry to recognize Hong Kong's independence," Hiro sighed. "Still, that should buy you enough time to lose the Amazons. Though you'll probably have to avoid coming back to Japan anytime soon," he added as he looked at Ranma. "At least don't come from the west through China. You'll probably have to take the long way around from either America or Australia. I'll start the paperwork for your passport."

Before either youth could reply the empty bento box began to emit a bright light.

Closing his eyes Neville felt the familiar tugging sensation that occurred during the magical teleportation.

*****

Despite the atmosphere, Ranma really couldn't get into watching Quidditch. True, watching the upstart Japanese Cloud Dragons upset the heavily favored German team had been nice (nationalism was always good) and he'd made a pretty Galleon (or a hundred, though he really didn't know how much a Galleon was worth) betting on the 100:1 underdogs. And then there was the unique and interesting food from through out the world (though he quickly learned to taste the difference between food prepared by hand and those that were produced by magic, even elvish magic).

All in all, Ranma had to say that he enjoyed his brief stint at the Quidditch World Cup.

"I really don't know much about Quidditch," Neville stated as he eyed the finely roasted lamb served with light gravy. "Harry, Ron and Ginny are really into Quidditch and even played in school, they could probably tell you more about it once we get back to England."

Ranma shrugged. He really wasn't that into Quidditch. Sure, the beaters were fun to watch, and really needed good reaction time, but every other position just seemed uninteresting. He'd spotted the snitch several times before the Japanese Seeker had finally found it - then again, Ranma wasn't sure how he'd do on a broom. He just didn't like the idea of having a stick between his legs.

"Don't worry about it," the pigtailed boy finally said as he swallowed the large cut of tender meat.

He was about to say more when a large, regal looking owl appeared, landing on the table beside Neville's goblet. Eyeing the nocturnal bird Ranma was about to launch his knife at the creature when he noticed a scroll in the bird's talon.

"We use owls to send messages," the sandy haired mage explained as he accepted the scroll. Reading over the message Neville sighed. "It seems that Hiro, with Happosai's help, managed to subdue Cologne and Shampoo. They're being held for now, but he's not sure how long it will take the Chinese Ministry to react and push for them to be released. The British Ministry has been informed but he's not sure if they've done anything yet."

The sudden appearance of another owl swooping through the window just as Neville finished reading the first scroll hinted at the fact that the nocturnal birds had an odd sense of timing, then again, it could just be coincidence. Never one to think much about the little things, Ranma simply waited as Neville read through the new message.

"The Minister wants us to go to England right away," Neville stated. "Your paperwork has been filed, and they've moved to bar any officials or visitors from China, but with the World Cup being held here it would be hard for the Turkish Ministry to effectively screen for anyone from China."

The pigtailed boy nodded, "I guessed as much. So when do we leave?"

"As soon as possible," the taller youth replied.

*****

After his second trip via Portkey, Ranma had definitely made up his mind that swimming was a much better method of travel. True, it too much longer, but it strengthened the body and mind. And it didn't leave him feeling as though he'd eaten a bowl of Akane's cooking and then taken several of Ryoga's best punches to the stomach.

Refusing to look weak before Happosai's great-grandson, Ranma stood tall even as his stomach seemed to hit the floor.

"Neville!" a high pitched female voice shouted as its owner breezed by the shorter Ranma and glomped the taller youth.

"Hey mate," a rougher voice called out, "watch what you're doing with my girlfriend." A tall man, though not as tall as Neville, with an unruly mop of red hair and many freckles grinned as he casually strolled over to them.

"Hermione, Ron," Neville exclaimed as he returned his former classmate's hug, "this is Saotome Ranma – he's Happosai's student…"

Ranma offered a polite bow to the two.

"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley," the bushy haired teen replied as she returned Ranma's bow.

"Um, actually," he said as he watched the girl elbow the redhead, prompting him to bow, "it would be Ranma Saotome I think."

Seeing the redheaded boy offer his hand Ranma reached out and grasped Ronald's hand to return the western greeting.

"In Japan they give their family names first," Hermione whispered, though not soft enough that Ranma hadn't heard her explanation to Ronald.

Coughing gently, Neville drew everyone's attention back to him, "Where's Shacklebolt? I thought he was going to meet me here?"

"He and Harry couldn't make it," Ron explained. "They're dealing with the Chinese Ministry. Guess you really stirred up the hornet's nest back in Japan. Word is that the Chinese Ministry is giving a lot of concessions to smooth things over."

"Neville!" a new voice cut in.

Ranma watched as an older woman rushed over to the tall youth and hugged him.

"Gran," the sandy haired youth replied. "I'd like you to meet Ranma Saotome, he's heir to Happosai's school."

The older woman pulled away from Neville and eyed the pigtailed boy.

"I'm nothing like the old letch," Ranma stated. "My old man was one of Happosai's students."

"But he said that he'd bestow the title of 'Master' to you," Neville interjected.

Ranma shrugged.

"And your father and Mr. Tendo both said that you are the heir to the school," Neville added. "I doubt that I could pull off half of the things I saw…." Neville shuddered at the memory.

"What happened?" a concerned Hermione asked as she put a tender hand on the young man's arm.

"Believe me when I say that it made the Battle for Hogwarts look like our little fight in the Ministry," Neville muttered. "I don't want to talk about it."

Three sets of eyes turned to Neville then to Ranma as the others sought enlightenment on the issue that had clearly unnerved the tall youth. A simple shrug silenced them, ending further inquiries.

*****

Long, deep shadows hid the three masked figures as they stood silently in the darkness of the burned down and abandoned building.

"This stupid plan of yours is beyond madness," the largest of the three figures proclaimed with a hiss.

"But the rewards far outweigh the costs," the lone female of the group replied in a light, soothing voice. "If we eliminate Longbottom not only will our cause be strengthened, but we'll be rewarded by our eastern friends, giving us the funds necessary to fight back against Shacklebolt and Potter." It was evident by the way that she spoke that she was smiling, trying to convince the others with her honeyed words.

"And should we fail we would end up in Azkaban or worse!" the smaller of the two men replied.

"But we would show the others that the Ministry is vulnerable," woman replied.

"The 'charity' ball at the Malfoy estate is going to be too heavily guarded," the large man replied. "I've known Malfoy long enough to know that he's going to take every precaution to prevent anyone from attacking him or any of his guests while they're at his estate. They have too much to lose as it is, those cowards."

"But there are ways around the protective wards," the woman replied. "And we wouldn't be attacking them at the party, just when an opportunity presents itself."

Clearly she had given the issue much thought. Not only had she addressed all their concerns, but she'd also addressed the rewards and payoffs that would help them. True, the Dark Lord was gone, but there were still plenty of his followers who were around. Without someone to lead they would simply fall to the growing influence of the new Minister of Magic and the cursed Harry Potter. Of the handful who had survived the Battle of Hogwarts, only a few had managed to escape the new Aurors. Their numbers steadily dwindling, the Death Eaters had not only been forced into hiding, but many had fled the country outright.

"When we pull this off the others will come back to help us," the masked woman said confidently. "I'll contact you when I seen an opportunity, and then we'll strike together.

Reluctantly the two men nodded.

*****

There were few things in life that Ranma truly hated. Sure, he hated Akane's cooking, what sane person didn't? Even the Ryoga's cast iron stomach couldn't endure that much punishment. And then there were cats… well, he didn't hate them so much as loath and fear them. Then again, he'd never admit to that.

Standing up and looking at his reflection in the mirror, Ranma forced himself to remain calm as the seamstress measured him for his dress robes. Having fought long and hard to try and convince Neville that he didn't need some stupid dress robe for the formal event, the pigtailed boy had unfortunately been outnumbered by Neville, his very insistent grandmother, Ron, and Hermione. Thus he was here, in some wizard clothing shop, having his measurements taken by this strange woman wearing clothes that looked like they dated back to America's 16th century.

"Hey," Ron smirked, "at least you don't have to pay for them."

"So why are you here again?" the pigtailed martial artist asked.

"Because Neville and Hermione are busy with work and I'm the only one free to make sure you get fitted," the tall redhead said with a smirk.

"Why aren't you going to this 'charity ball'?"

"Because I'm going to be working," the redhead sighed. "I might not be one for balls and such, but if Hermione wanted me to go with her, well, I really couldn't refuse."

Seeing the redhead shoot him a questioning look, Ranma looked at the redhead's reflection in the mirror. "What?"

"How come you speak English so well?" the redhead asked. "It's not like you've got a translation charm or anything on, yet your English is well, relatively good."

"Oh," the martial artist exclaimed. A sudden confident smile flashed in the mirror as Ranma took the compliment. "I'm not just some dumb jock," he replied. "I've traveled to a lot of countries, and picked up some bits of various languages. While in Turkey Neville and I worked on my English too. It's actually pretty easy compared to Chinese."

The redhead nodded. Having never bothered to learn a second language, he wondered if he could pick one up that easily. Even his sister-in-law had difficulties learning English, and Krum, well, he still had a thick accent. Listening to Ranma it was clear that the Japanese mage had an accent, though he really couldn't place its origins. Maybe it was the mixed lessons that the pigtailed boy had received with Neville at the World Cup and in his high school, what ever that was.

"So how was the World Cup?" the redhead finally asked.

"We made it for Japan's upset over Germany," the pigtailed boy smirked.

Soon the two were talking animatedly about Quidditch.

*****

It wasn't hard to follow Ronald Weasley. Not only was he marked with the same red hair as the rest of the family of blood traitors, but he was considerably taller than the average witch or wizard, easily making up for his companion's significantly shorter stature. Having spotted the pair as they were traversing down Diagon Alley it wasn't hard for the lean woman to keep track of them. Resisting the urge to signal her companions right away, the woman hoped that the cursed Longbottom boy would show up. He wasn't the type to just leave his newest companion alone for too long, especially not in an area like Diagon Alley. More than likely he was going to meet up with the blood traitor and the foreigner sooner or later. And if she was lucky the cursed Potter and the filthy mudblood Granger might show up as well.

*****

Much to Ranma's surprise, the pigtailed martial artist actually found the formal dress robes to be rather, well, nice. Sure, it wasn't as good as his usual red silk shirt and black pants, but they were nice. The silk had even been enchanted to absorb water, something that the human water magnet he had managed to convince the seamstress of doing, and only for a few of those silver coins.

With his things packaged and stored away, Ranma and Ron found themselves watching some sort of magical broadcast of the English National Team against the upstart Korean National Team at the local pub.

"Hey Hannah," the redhead called out as he waved at the cute waitress. "Two please."

"Seat yourself," the lean young woman was clearly drawing a lot of attention from more than a few of the men, but didn't seem to pay any attention to anyone beyond what was necessary for her role as a good hostess and server.

Taking two seats at the bar the odd pair quickly found themselves engrossed in a discussion about Ron's family. Absently the pigtailed martial artist listened, storing the information for whenever it would be needed. One worked with dragons (Ranma had always thought they were extinct), another worked for the Ministry (and had helped process his paperwork), one was dead and the other was still running a newly founded business with Ron (when he wasn't helping out the Ministry), and the last (well, the one that stuck out the most) worked as a curse breaker. Curse Breaker.

"What's a curse breaker?" Ranma asked, clearly interested in the subject.

Nursing his butter beer, the red head shrugged. "He works freelance for Gringotts. They're called curse breakers but they really put the curses on the vaults."

"To protect the stuff inside," Ranma offered.

"Yeah," the redhead nodded. "But no one wants to be known as the guy who cursed someone, and they also have to be able to undo the curses they set up, so they call themselves Curse Breakers."

Ranma nodded. Though it would be a stretch, perhaps he could find a so called Curse Breaker to undo his particular curse. Seeing the dark looks that those around them gave them at the mention of curses, Ranma could see that not everyone liked the idea of someone putting a curse on someone else.

"Oy, Ron, Ranma," Neville shouted as he entered the pub.

Waving at the tall, sandy haired young man, the pair found their discussion hijacked by the growing number of patrons who were there to view the broadcast of the match.

"Another round of butter beers," Neville said with a warm smile as the waitress, walked over to them.

"Coming right up," the blond said with the first sincerely warm smile that Ranma had seen since seating himself at the pub.

Eyeing the girl as she left Ranma turned back to his two companions even as they eyed him.

"You think she's cute, don't ya?" Ron smirked.

"She's cute," Ranma admitted, barely noting the overly passive look on Neville's face. "But I engaged, and I think she likes Neville."

A sudden rush of blood turned the sandy haired red. Clearly there was something between the two.

"What?!" Ronald exclaimed, only to have both Neville and Ranma stomp on his feet. "Ow! What'd you two blokes do that for?"

"Everything alright over here?" the blond asked as she returned with three mugs of butter beer.

"Um, yeah," Neville said with another blush.

"They're just telling me about how Ranma's engaged," the sour redhead said as he shot his two companions a look.

"Sorry," Neville said, apparently apologizing for some thus far unknown slight. "Hannah, this is Ranma Saotome, he's a reluctant student and heir to the teachings of my great-grandfather. This is Hannah Abbott, Ron and I went to school with her."

Ranma stood up and offered a polite bow, drawing a snicker from Ron at the display of foreign courtesy.

"Ronald Weasly," Hermione said sternly as she and a black haired young man entered the pub. "What's so funny about the way that Ranma greets those that he meets?"

Clearly uncomfortable with being admonished by his girlfriend, the tall redhead slouched and mumbled an apology, "Sorry."

Ranma scratched his head. "Sorry," he added, extending his hand to the cute blond. Her gentle hand found his as they shook hands. "I'm still not used to how things are done here."

"You shouldn't have to apologize about your culture," the bushy haired brunette said as she threw Ronald another scathing look.

"Anyways," Neville said, clearing the air. "Ranma, this is Harry Potter."

Reaching out Ranma grasped the rather scrawny young man's hand.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said as he offered a slight bow and shook the raven haired boy's hand.

"Nice meeting you too," Ranma said.

"You're not wearing a translation charm," Hermione noted as the two black haired youths took their seats.

"Yeah," Ron interjected, "guess Neville's been teaching him English."

The sandy haired youth blinked. "I though you were wearing a translation charm all that time," he exclaimed, clearly surprised by the revelation.

Ranma for his part simply shrugged. "I think I lost it before we left Japan."

Neville trembled at the recollection of that incident.

"What happened in Japan?" Harry dared to ask.

Neither Ranma nor Neville appeared to be willing to discuss the subject further though as they both stared into their respective mugs of butter beer. "I'd rather not talk about it today," Neville mumbled just loud enough for the gather group to hear.

Opening his mouth to protest, Ron felt Hermione's elbow digging into his ribs. Coughing, he quickly tried to change the subject. "So, England should have an easy time against Korea," he said as he lifted his mug.

"Two more please," Hermione said as she turned to Hannah.

"Are you sure you don't want a private room?" the blond asked as she eyed the group.

"I really don't mind," Harry said as he scanned the crowd.

Nodding as she accepted his decision, the blond rushed back to the bar, stopping only to collect more mugs from several tables and to get their orders.

"Hiro said that you were supposed to be famous," Ranma said, turning to look at Neville.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron each blinked. Clearly they had been expecting the statement to be directed at someone other than Neville. Well, Ron and Harry had been caught up by 'Hiro', mistaking it for 'Hero'. Only Hermione had deciphered the clear meaning of what the pigtailed boy had said.

"I was in Japan for diplomatic reasons," Neville stated. "Our Minister of Magic requested that I go to re-establish good relations with your Ministry."

"Oh," the pigtailed boy nodded, understanding dawning in his mind. "So they wanted someone famous to represent them, I see."

Ron barely restrained a snicker as Hermione stole his mug of butter beer and took a deep breath.

Suddenly it clicked. "You spoke to the minister and requested that I go, didn't you?" Neville exclaimed as she turned to Hermione.

Setting Ronald's drink down Hermione sat up straight, clearly not bothering to deny the fact. "Yes. And I'd rather not talk about it here; that is Ministry business after all."

Shrugging his shoulders Ranma really didn't care about why Neville had been in Japan. For his part Neville simply shook his head, accepting the fact that his friends had manipulated him for some weird reason.

"So what'd you do to become famous?" Ranma asked.

Taking a deep gulp of his beverage, Neville leaned back against the bar as Hannah slid two mugs over to Harry and Hermione. Slowly, the three wizards and the witch filled the martial artist in on Neville's exploits during the Battle for Hogwarts.

*****

Spotting the prominent group of doo-gooders, the dark woman touched her wand to her forearm five times, indicating to her companions how many obstacles they needed to face. Hopefully the others would cease this opportunity to avenge the Dark Lord.

*****

A/N

I think I'll just leave things where they're at for now.

Please Read and Review.

Dreamingfox


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes –

This is takes place after the failed wedding and after DH. Hell, it's a cross over, expect lots of surprises. No, I do not own either series.

* * * * *

Having never been to Europe, hell, having never left Asia, Ranma really didn't know what to expect. Sure, Turkey had been fun, and England was nice, but the weather… eh, he could do without the dreary weather. Slipping off to use the – what did they call it? – loo, Ranma wondered how long he'd have to remain in England before he could return home. True, it really wasn't home-home, just a place to set his pack and a roof over his head when he slept. Hell, he hadn't used the bathroom there too often as he'd quickly learned that Akane was almost always going to bash him over the head for something he hadn't done.

Hopefully his parents' house would be fixed up by the time he returned. Maybe once he had some space from Akane he'd be able to sort out how he really felt about, well, everyone.

Washing up he headed back out. Looking at several cloaked figures as they clung to the shadows Ranma couldn't help but wonder why wizards and witches felt the need to wear cloaks. True, shrine maidens and eastern magi would wear loose clothing that probably made it easier for them to casually explain where the hell they pulled something out of rather than trying to explain that it was magic, but still, it just made Ranma feel edgy. At least Neville's friends wore regular clothes like shirts and pants.

A bright flash of sickly blue light suddenly caught his attention as a group of wizards began shooting off spells at Neville and his friends.

Instinctively Ranma grabbed an empty shot glass off a table as he rushed by it. The hardened glass was a perfect projectile despite its non-aerodynamic structure as it careened off the back of the head of the mysterious mage who had fired off the first spell. Grabbing several forks and knives Ranma hurled them at the masked wizards and witches, distracting them just enough for Neville and the others time to find cover even as the rest of the tavern's inhabitants sought to find out what was going on.

Soon the tavern was filled with flashing lights as a multitude of spells filled the now cramped room.

Undeterred by the magic flying around him Ranma rushed in, punching one wizard in the ribs hard. The sound of breaking ribs greeted his punch as he sent the man crashing into an overturned table. A swift split kick sent two more masked wizards flying in opposite directions as Ranma effortlessly evaded a green jet of light.

Kicking off the ceiling Ranma pummeled a witch's head as he descended. Landing nimbly he kicked a wizard hard in the side of the knee even as a red jet of light collided with the man. A second wizard fell over of his own accord (though Ranma would later learn that Neville had actually hit him with a full body bind), allowing Ranma to grab the wrist of witch, throwing her spell off even as he kicked her in the head. To add insult to injury he flipped her forward, throwing her onto her body-bound companion.

The tingle of magic quickly receded around him as he stood up. A quick glance told him that the fighting had stopped and the masked wizards were either down or had fled.

"That was bloody awesome," Ronald exclaimed as he absently conjured magical rope to bind the stunned witches and wizards.

"I can't believe you did that without magic," Hermione gasped as she eyed Ranma.

"And you wonder why I don't ever want to go back to Japan," Neville added.

* * * * *

Ronald Weasley would be the first to admit that Hermione Granger was not easily impressed. Sure, she and Harry still were awed by magical things as they had been raised by muggles, but for her and Harry to be impressed by a muggle fighting style, well, that was impressive. Even Ron had to admit that he was impressed, though he was skeptical about how the pigtailed blur had managed to defeat the handful of Death Eaters.

Glowering in the corner as he wrote up the report of the attempted attack on the famous Harry Potter and his semi-famous friends, the tall redhead stole glances at the short Japanese Ranma as several of the newer Aurors questioned the others.

"That was unbelievable," Harry exclaimed as he took the seat beside his oldest friend. "Did you see what he did?"

"Yeah, I did," the freckled young man mumbled as he fought to find the correct words to describe what he'd seen. In truth he hadn't seen much. There had been too many flashes of light and debris flying through the tavern, and then there was that red blur. It was too big and dark to have been a stunning spell or hex – it had to have been Ranma. But how the bloodly hell did a muggle move that fast? He'd seen bludgers that were slower than Neville's new companion. "Or at least I thought I did."

"Yeah," Harry exclaimed breathlessly.

Ronald gave his friend an odd look. "Are you alright? Take a bad hex or something?"

Harry blinked. "I'm fine, why do you ask?"

"You look like you've taken a swig of a love potion – like you've got a thing for short, skinny, and dangerous over there."

The dark haired youth sat straight up. "I'm just amazed is all - kind of like how you were when you saw Krum the first time."

"But Krum's a world class athlete," Ron shot back in his own defense.

"It looks like Ranma is too," Neville stated as he took a seat next to his two former class and dorm mates.

"What happened to you in Japan?" Harry quickly asked.

Neville trembled. "You think this was bad," he shuddered again, "this was nothing compared to what happened in Japan."

"What happened in Japan?" Ron chimed in.

"It's harder to describe than what happened here," the sandy haired youth stated. "It's the stuff of nightmares."

"Worse than the battle for Hogwarts?" Hannah asked as she set several cups down for the three Aurors.

"In a way," Neville admitted as he accepted the glass of whisky. "I don't know if anyone died, but the damage was worse than the Battle, and there were only a dozen or so people who caused it all. More like what happened in the Department of Mysteries back in fifth year."

Harry and Ron nodded. They'd both been there, though things had been hectic and chaotic for both of them at the time.

Before Hannah could even ask about that incident she was cut off by the sudden appearance of the Minister of Magic.

Reflexively the three Aurors stood at attention, ignoring the powerful alcohol offered to them by their friendly proprietor. "Minister," they said in unison.

"Potter, Longbottom, Weasley," the tall, bald black man said with his powerful, booming voice.

It was never a good sign to have the man that they each knew fairly well addressing them formally.

"It seems that we've apprehended several more Death Eaters and their sympathizers," Minister Shacklebolt stated. "But there appears to be more that they won't give up."

The three Aurors nodded. They'd long suspected that there were sympathizers around, but how many and how well connected was the question. Even with the half-dozen that they'd apprehended there were probably at least twice that many if not more roaming around the country.

"Unfortunately we don't have the manpower to investigate everything properly," the Minister growled.

"So does that mean we don't have to go to the Malfoy's Ball?" Ron asked, hoping to have some reason to not appear at the formal function of his family's primary rival and antagonist.

"Unfortunately you'll all have to go," Shacklebolt sighed. "You'll actually have to pull double duty there – working the crowd while you're guarding and protecting them. And of course you'll have to bring your new friend."

All three youths slumped. As heroes of the Battle for Hogwarts they were expected to attend the final memorial even though the Malfoy family was hosting the event. True, it wasn't at the Malfoy's estate, but having to return to Hogwarts so would be hard for them all. Even though the school had been rebuilt and restored there were just too many reminders of the friends and comrades they had lost to Voldemort and his followers.

But this was as much a memorial as it was a celebration of what the future held now that the dark times under Voldemort's rule were over as well as to celebrate the completed rebuilding/repairs to Hogwarts. As heroes of the Battle for Hogwarts they were all expected to be present. Even famous heroes couldn't get out of their responsibilities.

* * * * *

A/N

I think I'll just leave things where they're at for now.

Yeah, short chapter, but it's been awhile since I wrote anything for this fic.

Please Read and Review.

Dreamingfox


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